


Stay

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Maybe this is the time they get it right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For @shady-swan-jones who requested ‘I literally can’t sleep alone anymore, so I’ve shown up at your door in my pyjamas. Can we have one more nap together, please?’

“Emma?”

Killian gripped the door handle as he shut one eye to focus on Emma standing at his door at 2 AM in a pair of fraying, plaid pajama pants and a faded t-shirt. His still hazy vision made her seem like a figment of his sleep-addled mind.

“Hey,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist.

He itched to soothe his hand along her arm and pull her towards him, anything to wipe away her crumpled stance and the line etched between her brows. He should be angry. She had walked out that very same door some three months prior with barely a word since. He at the very least should let her stand outside freezing in the December chill but his resolve – what little he possessed – cracked when a shiver ran up her back.

Killian stepped back from the door way. “Come in,” he offered. “Can I make you some tea?” he asked with a tilt of his head towards the kitchen. She nodded and he pointed her to his couch before shuffling off to the kitchen to start the kettle.

By the time he returned to the living room, pressing a warm mug into her hands, Emma was curled into the corner of his couch, her knees drawn to her chest. He sat on the opposite end and watched the steam rise off his own mug as he waited for her to tell him why she had come.

He was halfway through his own mug before she spoke.

“Snow’s pregnant.”

Killian took another sip before settling his mug on the coffee table. “That explains some things,” he started. Emma shifted and rested her chin on her knee, cocking her head in question as she did. “Dave’s been acting weird,” Killian replied with a shrug. “Muttering lists to himself with a bit of a frantic edge.”

A ghost of a smile crosses her lips before she buried her face in her knees. “I feel petty,” she mumbled. “I should be happy.” She paused and her fingers flexed at her calves. “I am happy.”

His mind flashed on all the ways he had planned to rail at her when he got the chance. All the questions he wanted to hurl without hope of an answer. The whys and wherefores of how she tossed aside years of friendship and months of something else, something even better, without a word to him. But here, with her curled in on herself on his couch, he couldn’t bring himself to care about those questions, or his hurt.

He nudged himself across the cushion as he reached to tug her to him, pulling his legs up to allow her to come to rest between them. He ached at how easily she melded to him, but pushed that aside and let his fingers rub along her back while her breaths came out in stuttered puffs against his chest.

“I hate that I feel this way,” she choked out after a while. “I hate that I’m jealous. That they get to have what I -”

“Oh, Swan,” he whispered into the top of her head as she fell quiet again.

They remained tangled together for a while, his hand on her back, fingers twining in the ends of her hair. Her hand clutched at the collar of the t-shirt he had thrown on when he went to answer the door. He was beginning to suspect she had fallen asleep when he heard her faint question, “Can I stay?”

His mind supplied him with all sorts of reasons why agreeing would be a bad idea. But instead he answered, “Of course,” without a beat. Unfolding his legs and reaching one arm beneath her knees, he stood and picked her up off the couch, intent on tucking her into his bed before searching out some blankets for the couch. Her lips formed a smile against the base of his neck and he chided himself for the way his heart stuttered at the feel of it against his skin.

_Don’t_ , he cautioned himself before walking them towards his bedroom.

Once he managed to tuck her into his bed, he pulled himself away with only a brief caress of his fingers along a strand of her hair at her temple. But as he pulled away, Emma reached out and snaked her hand around his. “Where are you going?”

He swallowed and wished he could make out her expression in the dark of the room.

“Stay.”

“Swan,” he warned but could feel himself drifting back towards her.

“Please,” she continued.

He sighed and sank a knee into the mattress beside her before crawling in behind her. She pulled his arm around her waist and he curled his hand to rest along her hip, his head on the edge of her pillow.

“Just tonight,” she murmured. “A one-time thing. I promise.”

“A one-time thing,” he repeated.

*

It couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours later, judging the darkness that still shrouded his room, when Killian woke next. Emma remained pressed back against his chest, but their legs were now tangled together and he found his hand had slipped beneath her loose t-shirt.

He flexed at the soft weight of her breast in his hand and groaned when she ground her ass down on his hardening erection.

“Emma,” he breathed out, pulling her nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching and tugging as it tightened and swelled. 

She sighed and reached back to card her fingers through his hair, arching herself into his touch. He ghosted his hand to her other breast, circling his palm around that nipple before returning to the first, rolling it between his fingers once again.

It was her whispering his name along with her hand moving to his hip that brought him to full awareness of what they were doing. Emma tightened her grip on him when he froze.

“Please,” she asked, an echo of her earlier plea. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said with a kiss to her head as he brought his hand back to her waist, righting her shirt as he went. He squeezed her once his hand returned to safer territory. “But I can’t do this tonight and find you gone come morning.”

Her hand found his at her waist and she breathed deep as her fingers swept over his. “I know,” she confessed after a few moments. “I know.”

*

Sunlight was flickering through the blinds and the scent of her shampoo lingering on his pillow by the time he woke again. But Emma herself, much as he predicted, was gone.

*

The next knock at his door wasn’t Emma but Belle, a knapsack on her shoulder and the two motorcycle helmets from Killian’s own garage in her hand.

“Get dressed and pack a bag,” she said, shoving one of the helmets at him. “We leave in 30.”

Her expression left no room for argument, so he ducked in the shower and threw together a hasty assortment of clothes.

The cabin she directed him to once they hit the road wasn’t one he had seen before, but the way Belle moved through it, opening cabinets and pulling out food and sheets, left him with no question as to whom it must have belonged. He thought about arguing but then she shoved a wine glass under his nose with contents that smelled rich and spicy and, most importantly, expensive, and he suddenly relished the idea of drinking their way through her prick of a boyfriend’s cellar stock.

The second night, and an untold amount of wine later, she asked him, “What do you want?”

He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a grin as swept his eyes down to her chest. Belle tossed a pillow at his face. “I’m not on offer. Idiot.” She threw a second pillow that he managed to duck. “You know what I meant.”

Killian sighed and rolled himself to stare up at the ceiling from his spot on the floor. “I want her. Despite everything. Always have.”

*

David and Snow threw themselves a small party once they announced the pregnancy a few weeks later. Killian quickly learned that small was a relative descriptor as he weaved through their packed loft, intent on stepping out into the hallway to get a breather.

Because it appeared to be the way the universe worked now, he was greeted by the sight of Emma sitting on the top of the stairs, a bottle of beer dangling from the hand she has resting on her knee. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she was wearing a thin, cream-colored sweater that he was once quite fond of for how the cowled neck line draped along her clavicles.

He was about step back inside when she turned and caught his eye, a smile spreading across her lips. Despite himself, he joined her on the stairs with only a small wave of encouragement from her.

“Hey,” she said, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a long pull.

“Hey,” he said back, smiling at his own lap when she shoved her shoulder against his. “You holding up all right, love?”

She nodded. “Just needed a minute. There are only so many back in the day stories you can take from Leroy and Doc, ya know?”

Killian laughed and took a drink of his own beer. “Aye. That I understand.”

They sat like that for a while, drinking their beer and swaying slightly to the music drifting from the open loft door.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, standing suddenly.

Killian looked up at her, startled. “And go where?”

She shrugged and moved down a few steps, bringing her level with him. “Does it matter?” she asked with a cock of her head.

“I suppose not,” he replied and stood to follow her, abandoning his beer bottle next to hers at the top of the stairs.

They walked in silence down the center of the road, both hunched under layers of down coats and woolen hats against the January wind. When they reached the dunes that bordered the edge of town, Emma stopped in front of a break in the chain-linked fencing, pushing it aside and slipping through. Killian raised an eyebrow when she turned back to see if he was following her. She huffed when she found him still on the opposite side of the fence.

“Patience,” he said with laugh.

He followed her as she picked her way towards the top of one of the taller dunes. He slowed as he realized she was leading him towards the site of one of their earliest dates.

“Swan?” he asked, cringing at the catch in his voice.

“Patience,” she echoed back to him, stepping towards him to pull his hand in hers and tugged him the rest of the way up the hill.

When they reached the top she dropped to the ground and he followed her gracelessly. Righting himself, he stared out at the waves lapping shore line, the water dark as the moonless sky.

“Remember the first time we came here?”

A smirk crept at the corner of his mouth, his mind conjuring an image of a much warmer night, her bare except for his unbuttoned flannel, wet hair drawn into a top knot that dripped on the both of them as she rode him in an achingly thorough manner.

Emma shoved his shoulder. “Not that, Jones.”

“Why not that?” he teased. “That was a particularly pleasant portion of the evening. For both of us, if I remember correctly.”

He turned to her and watched a smile play across her lips before it flickered into a frown. She then took a deep breath and kept her eyes out on the water. “I told you that night, that I’m not easy to love.”

Killian sighed and inched closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “That’s where you have it wrong, love. You are incredibly easy to love. Your problem is that you push away those you ought to be holding closer.”

She stiffened before trying to pull away from him. He kept his hand on her shoulder, not allowing her to move far.

“Hear me out, Emma,” he asked and only let out a full breath when she relaxed in his hold. “I don’t know what happened the night you left. All I know is that what hurt most is that I lost one of my oldest friends. And all I wanted was to talk with her, talk through whatever it was I might have done.”

“You didn’t do anything, Killian.”

He pulled his arm from her shoulder and leaned back into the sand. “Then what was it?”

She shuddered and took another few breaths before lying down next to him. “I ran into Walsh that night. He was at the bar too.”

“Motherf–” he started, but stopped himself when she turned and reached out to him. “What did he say to you?” he asked after he took her hand in his, resting it on his chest.

“He asked about you, about how long we had been together. It seemed innocent enough, at first.” She shrugged. “But then he started insinuating all these things – about how you’d get bored, get tired of trying to get me to let you in, how you’d find someone else, someone easier.”

“Emma, you have to know –”

She squeezed his hand to cut him off. “I know. I knew it then. But that night I lay there awake, and all those thoughts just crept in. I freaked out.” She took a deep breath and continued, “You are my home, Killian, and suddenly I thought of all the ways I would ruin that.”

He turned towards her, lying on his side with his arm pillowed beneath his head. “So you dealt with that by ignoring me?”

Emma threaded her fingers through the hand she was still holding. “I never said I was smart. Last time I thought I had a home, I ended up arrested and spent 11 months in prison.”

His chest tightened at her words, wanting at once to gather her against him and to stand up and fling invectives at everyone who had ever had a hand in twisting this woman up so tight. Instead he settled for bringing her hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to her knuckles.

“You’re one of my best friends,” he whispered against her hand, staring across to her as he did. “Have been since we met and I’ve not grown bored yet. Can’t imagine I ever will.”

 

She smiled over at him, a small thing that wavered a little at the edges, but Killian took that as a start.

*

He woke up alone, in his own bed, the following morning.

That time, though, it was by choice.

He and Emma spent the reminder of the night huddled together on that dune, him drawing nonsense patterns into the sand and on her stomach as he wove her tales of Liam and him as lads. He listened to her laugh at two boys running wild on the beaches and boardwalk of Brighton. Watched her eyes widen while he described doughnuts topped with jam and whipped cream.

He ended the night by walking Emma home, leaving her with his knit cap on her head and a kiss to her forehead as she promised to call him later in the week.

*

Emma didn’t call.

Instead, three nights later she stalked into the Rabbit Hole and without waiting for a break in his game of darts with Robin, she asked him out.

Killian missed the dart board by a mile but didn’t miss her wide grin when he accepted.

*

Still unsure as to whether to take her out to her favorite restaurant or to pack up a picnic and bring her stargazing, he texted her instructions to be ready at 8 the following evening and to wear something pretty.

*

“Emma?”

It was once again 2 AM and she was standing at his front door - sixteen hours ahead of schedule and at the wrong door. She was again entirely underdressed for the weather in a pair of grey and white striped pajama pants and a black camisole he had fond memories of peeling off of her every chance he got.

Killian combed his fingers through his already riotous hair, blinking.

“What are you –”

Emma didn’t allow him to finish, instead she stood on her toes and placed a kiss to his lips. It was soft, a barely there wisp that swept past him as her hand touched his chest, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt.

Killian’s brain caught up just enough to chase her lips with his own, drawing her back to him as he cupped his hands to her cheeks. He tilted her chin just enough to deepen the kiss a moment before pulling back and then pressing back in. She opened beneath him, allowing his tongue to slide in and tangle with hers.

“Invite me in, Killian,” she whispered against his mouth when they broke apart a few minutes later.

He stepped back, his hands falling to her hips to pull her with him as he did. He continued even as she kicked back at the door, slamming it shut with her foot. It was an awkward backward shuffle to his room with more than one wall bumped into in the process. But her mouth was on his, her teeth pulling at his lower lip, and hands fighting to divest him of his shirt, and Killian couldn’t bring himself to care all that much.

When the back of his knees hit the mattress’ edge, he fell back, pulling Emma on top of him as he went. She laughed as she fell, planting a few kisses to his chest before righting herself. He stared up at her, twining his fingers in hers and holding them on his stomach, just above where she sat.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

“Hi,” she replied, sweeping a thumb over his. “I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

“I can see that.” He tugged on her hands, guiding her back down to him. She rested her forehead against his when her face reached his, her hair curtaining around them both.

“I didn’t want to spend the whole night wondering if we might end up back here.”

“Really?” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows.

Biting her lip, she asked, “Think I can spend the night?”

“Emma,” he said, releasing one of her hands and bringing it to her cheek. She leaned into him as his thumb swept across her face.

“We don’t have to do anything,” she continued, holding his gaze. “I just -”

“Just what?” he prodded after she remained silent for a few beats.

“I didn’t want to waste another night sleeping without you next to me.”

Killian rolled both of them until they were both lying on their sides facing one another. He brought one of his hands to rest on her hip, his finger teasing at the waistband of her pajamas.

“You are always welcome here.” He leaned in, rubbing her nose with his. “For as long as you like.”

Emma smiled, a tear tracking down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it away before wrapping himself around her.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

He smoothed his hand down her hair. “I just ask that you tell me the next time you’re scared.”

She nodded and he placed a kiss to her head. “Sleep, Emma.”

*

Emma woke him the following morning, her lithe fingers tracing the skin just beneath the band of his sleep pants before working themselves down and around his cock. He groaned as she teased at his head, thumb looping over and along the slit before returning encircle him and drag down his shaft.

When he tried to turn and reach for her, she shifted and pinned his hip to the mattress, demanding he still without a word before she tugged his pants down to his thighs. He glanced down to watch as she gripped the base of his cock, her tongue marking a wet slide up the fat vein before repeating the path her thumb had taken moments before. He closed his eyes as her lips closed around his head, her tongue teasing before she let him go with a wet pop and started the process again.

By the time she took him fully into her mouth, it took no more than a handful of bobs before she had him coming down her throat. He had half a mind to be embarrassed at how little it took, but the grin she shot him as she took one last swipe at him erased any coherent thoughts.

“Come here,” he growled, tugging at her hands to get her to sit on his chest. “Pants off.”

“Really?” She quirked an eyebrow, but was already working one leg out of her pajamas. Killian gripped her thighs once that first leg was free and hauled her towards his mouth. He thought about taking his time, working up her thighs and teasing along her folds, but the sight before him – her wet and skin tinged a deep blush - wiped away the want of any pretense. Instead he wrapped his lips around her clit, enjoying the feel of her legs tensing around him as she moaned above him. He continued his onslaught, a combination of tongue and teeth and lips as she began to grind against him, directing him to where she wanted him. He followed suit, only grabbing hold of her hips and stilling her when he felt her thighs begin to shake. He coiled his tongue around her clit one last time, pressing in as she cried out his name.

Only when she came back to herself did Killian finished stripping her of her clothes and righting his own pants. He then wrapped her in his robe and shuffled them both out to the kitchen, where he proceeded to lay her out on the island and went down on her again while they waited for the coffee to brew.

*

In the end they scraped their dinner plans, foregoing them for an evening camped in a mound of blankets on his living room floor with pizza delivery and a minimum of clothing.

*

“Are you ever going to permit me to take you out on that date?”

Killian leaned on the doorway to the living room, loosening his tie as Emma lounged on his couch with her laptop perched on her stomach. It had been two weeks since their aborted dinner plans and he was sure he’d never grow tired of coming home to find her in his house, her and her things invading every available surface.

“That’s one way to say hello,” she scoffed, shutting the lid and sliding the computer to the coffee table.

He crossed the room and dropped down on the couch next to her as she sat up. He leaned in, stopping just shy of her lips and whispered, “Go home. Put on that green dress.” He grinned as she hummed and he brushed his lips against hers before pulling away. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

*

“Emma?”

She hummed from where she had buried her head in his pillows, while Killian traced his fingers down the thin sheen of sweat covering her bare back.

“Stay.”

“Huh?” she mumbled, not moving.

He dropped his hand to her hip and slid it over her ass before shifting behind her and lifting her leg to lay over his. He slipped his hand forward, his fingers delving down and into her folds, opening her to him as he pressed his cock between her legs.

“Stay,” he repeated, teasing his cock along her clit. “I want you here every night,” he said as she gasped and he pulled back to push inside her.

She groaned as he slowly seated himself within her. “You aren’t playing fair,” she breathed.

He grinned against the back of her neck and began the slow slide out and back in again. He repeated the full motion again before answering her, “Not when it comes to you, love.”

They continued like that, a slow push-pull until both of them were left panting and out of breath.

“Do you mean it?” she asked when they were done, turning to him as she tucked her hand under her head.

“About you moving in here?” he asked and she nodded. “Of course,” he answered.

The slow smile that spread across her face was all the answer he’d ever need.


End file.
